Aeneas was standing in the shadow of a column at the station, watching the trains arriving from the various Districts. First - of course - to arrive were Districts 1, 2, 9 and 4, being the closest to the Capitol.
The moment they saw him Aphrodite and Esme made their way through the crowd. Aph's jaws were so clenched that Aeneas felt as if a bone would snap. Esme, on the other hand, was smiling at the people around her as if nothing had happened. Finnick, Annie, Cashmere and Gloss were waiting for them by the train, as if they were just going to buy water.
"I hope you have a plan," Aphrodite hissed at him almost immediately.
"For what?" Neas winced and in a moment everything inside him died. "Azalea. She's the tribute for District 12."
"Are you serious?" Esme hissed. "We didn't know."
Aeneas looked around, trying to breathe deeply. He had to stay calm. I had to... Azalea was going to be fine. He would cover himself. Just... "So. Alliances?"
Aphrodite crossed her arms in front of her chest and her raised blonde eyebrows alone made Aeneas ready to run away. "We're in the middle of a fucking station, do you think this is the time and place to talk about these things?!" Sometimes Aeneas knew that he was not afraid of anything in this world. Then he looked at Aphrodite Nicholo and knew that things were not quite like that.
"You're right, I'm sorry," Neas looked around the station. "They should be here soon, right?" Esme nodded, now slightly annoyed. "Alright... Right. I'll send one of my avox over tonight. I'll do my best to fix this, you fix the mentoring part." The girls nodded. "Okay..."
"Neas," Esme called in her soft, lullaby-like voice. "We know you're worried. But now the important thing is to be strong. Zea has a plan. She always does."
"Not now," Aphrodite shook her head. "Who might have a plan for The Hunger Games?"
Azalea, he wanted to answer. Because she knew what the arena was like. She knew what to do to win. Also, Azalea Mellark had an unfair advantage. She had grown up before the eyes of the Capitol. People loved her. Others wanted to be like her. It didn't matter. They would all help the little daughter of the victors, who was one of them.
The District 12 train arrived in just a minute. Aphrodite and Esme - like two hunting dogs - turned around the moment Azalea jumped off the train and the paparazzi surrounded her. Aeneas heard them - every single question, every single comment - and he wished he was in a position to kill them all.
"Miss Mellark!"
"This way!"
"How does it feel like?"
"Will you win?"
Azalea stepped into the role almost immediately. The smile on her lips was flawless, a Capitol smile that she had practiced in front of Aeneas himself for years. Her parents were sitting next to her along with the male tribute - a boy of about 13 years old.
A boy that Azalea pushes forward. "This is Asther. My ally in the upcoming Games."
The boy, the paparazzi, Zea's parents, Esme, Aphrodite and Aeneas - all - were thinking the same thing. That damn girl is crazy. Hell, why else would she choose to protect... That's it. To protect.
Aeneas laughed the moment he caught Azalea's eye and started clapping. "Well done!"
The paparazzi turned to him. "What do you mean Mr. Snow?"
Aeneas never took his eyes off Azalea. "That," he pointed out lightly, "means courage. To defend those who cannot defend themselves. Wouldn't you agree, ladies and gentlemen, that this is the bravest thing we've seen at the Games in quite some time?"
***
Azalea Mellark had leaned against the black mare just before the Tribute Parade began. The rest of the boys and girls weren't much - malnourished, of course (something that fueled her thirst for President Snow's death). The tributes from Districts 1 and 2 were of course well built, they even had some muscle. Compared to them, Ashter, who had been lost somewhere with her parents, looked like a small puppy whose neck was about to be broken.
"Well, well, well," came a familiar voice from Azalea's left, "the tribute from District 12, the fire goddess!"
"Hello Finnick."
Finnick Odair—Esme's mentor who had gotten her out of the Games at age 14—gave Azalea one of those smiles he probably gave his lovers late at night as the Capitol drifted off to sleep. He approached her and held out a hand full of sugars. "Do you want one?" Azalea shook her head. "Why? Have you eaten better things?"
She shrugged. "Maybe I just don't want sugar cubes, Odair."
As Azalea grew, Finnick was one of the fun Victors. When the Games got too bloody, when she, Esme, and Aphrodite were afraid, he would take them out on the streets of the Capitol. He would show them the places she wouldn't have seen on her way to school - like the little streets with the candy shops.
"Ouch," Finnick put a hand on his chest. "What happened to 'Uncle Finnick', little one?" He rested his head on the black mare. "I know it's early for this, but... my tributes would be a good alliance for you. Esme must have told you."
"I didn't have time to talk to Esme." Azalea licked her lips. "Do you know... has Aunt Annie talked to Mom?"
"I think they're talking now. Katniss is worried, you know that, don't you Zea?" his voice had become so low that Azalea could barely hear him over the shouting of the crowd. "We are all worried. This is the fourth year in a row that our child has been selected for the Games." Finnick looked over his shoulder. "And you know about the other thing."
"About the... problem?" Zea swallowed and looked into his eyes. "I heard."
Finnick nodded slightly. "Come to our floor and we'll talk later. Me, Annie, and Esme are having a family dinner of sorts." He popped a sugar cube into his mouth. "We will talk about the... problem and the alliance with my tributes."
"Are your tributes open to taking Ashter? Because we go together."
Finnick sighed, "And that's what we'll talk about, don't worry."
However, he remained leaning against the mare as if expecting something more. "You can ask me Finnick."
"Are you really okay?"
Azalea didn't answer for a minute or two. She just stared through it as if from here she could see the forest of District 12. As if from here Azalea could see her brothers, her uncle, Grandma Everdeen and Grandpa Mellark, her aunt...
There was just a small part of her that thought those brief moments after the Reaping were the last Azalea saw of her family. That she would never see them again. Or to hug them. Or laugh with them. And she hadn't even said goodbye to her brothers.
That part of her was trembling. So strong that there was nothing that could calm her down. Last night it was this part of fear and uncertainty that had kept her awake until the first rays of the July sun caressed her face.
"I don't think I have a right to be unwell," Azalea bit her lower lip. "After all...we expected this to happen, didn't we?"
"No one will blame you if you're scared," Finnick frowned slightly as some strange glimmers of concern shone in his eyes. "Azalea, my dear girl, you are not yet 15 years old. It's normal to be afraid."
"No... I... Finnick, I'm not afraid," she smiled at him. "Why should I be afraid? As you said, we are one family. I know you won't let anything happen to me."
And even if she was killed... even if she died... could she continue to live a life that wasn't really hers? Could she keep playing a game for the cameras and never be able to say how she really felt, never be able to jump or dance or laugh the way she wanted? Was this life?
"Okay," Finnick sighed. "But. Promise me you'll come tonight. The whole clan will come together."
Azalea threw her head back and laughed. "Who?"
Finnick made a face and showed her his empty hand. He cleared his throat, making his voice sound like Caesar's. "Starting with the amazing brother and sister of District 1 - the darlings of our sweet Capitol - Cashmere and Gloss! Let's not forget our dear Aphrodite! Applause please! Then we continue with the amazing and irresistible victors of District 4 - Finnick Odair, waiting for your thunderous applause, Annie Cresta and Esme Cresta!" Azalea laughed as her uncle Finnick swayed slightly next to the mare as he imitated Caesar. "Then. Tonight only - just for you - the amazing and irresistible Johanna Mason! And last – but not least – from District 12 – Katniss and Peeta Mellark... along with Haymitch!"
Azalea nodded with a laugh. "Ok, I will come."
"I know. If you hadn't agreed, Johanna would have bullied you into coming," Finnick pushed off the mare as Effie and Asther came. "Good luck, fire goddess."
***
Caesar surveyed the tributes in their chariots. "I can't tell if this year's tributes are any better than last year's," he laughed, looking at his commentary partner, a young woman named Callisto Longbottom.
"But I'm already convinced, Caesar," Callisto looked at him with those big brown eyes of hers, "that you have a favorite."
Without even thinking, Caesar laughed. Because that was his job. "Of course I have. I won't hide it. Because Azalea Mellark won me over at the station earlier this morning."
In fact, the young girl from District 12 had won him over years ago. It was no secret that his son - Plato - had no friends, and he spoke strangely... the boy was exposed to bullying even before he was 13 years old. However, Azalea Mellark chased those bullies away.
She was very small then - she was two years younger than Plato - and maybe not even 10 years old, but she had stood up to those kids and was ready to kick their asses. When she saw Caesar, however, she simply held out her hand to him as if she hadn't just saved his son from certain beating, and said, "It's nice to see you again, Caesar. Azalea Mellark."
Callisto smiled, "Anyway, Caesar, I think we should see the other tributes. Like...oh, look at that lovely little lady from District 1!"
Caesar looked at the blond girl. "What her name was, Callisto, I forget. Me and my old mind," he chuckled.
"Regina and Prince of District 1!" Callisto clapped her hands. "Look how cute they are! I bet Caesar the pink suits were Aphrodite's idea!"
Caesar leaned forward, "I don't know if you remember," he said to the camera, "but during the 74th Hunger Games, when Cashmere first introduced her child to us, the tributes wore similar pink suits! Here comes District 2! Stunning, simply stunning!" Caesar laughed. "Introducing Marcus and Priscilla!"
Callisto leaned in, "Now. District 3. Personally, I find their costumes slightly tasteless. Wires and wires."
Caesar hated this whole part of the Games. The entire Capitol treated these kids like some kind of pets with new costumes. They didn't care if Cashmere felt good, if Finnick was raped, if Katniss and Peeta were forced to have daughter at the age of 17. As long as the show went on, nothing else mattered.
The chariots passed one after the other, Callisto calling out the children's names, discussing their clothes, and Caesar answered her languidly, but with enough energy that no one suspected the anger that was building up in him. "Ah!" he laughed at last. "Here comes District 12!" Azalea Mellark held the little boy by her hand and waved to the audience with a big smile. "Azalea Mellark and Asther Amber! Aren't they amazing, my friends?!" The audience erupted into wild applause the moment Azalea appeared.
"Another year, another work of genius by Cinna. Don't you agree, Caesar?" The girl was wearing a black dress that had burst into flames. As the picture was made bigger for Caesar to see, he noticed the small flowers all over the dress. It wasn't the cloth that was burning. The flowers were burning. "Curious, what are the flowers?" Callisto asked.
Caesar turned pale. He had only seen these flowers once. On that wall. In District 8. "These are... azaleas, Callisto. The flowers that Azalea Mellark is named after."
And this time—this year—Cinna had again created a face of unrest, of rebellion. Only this time he was creating it from a man who could set the Capitol on fire. This year, President Snow was going to kill him.
***
The family dinner was something Azalea had been waiting for all year. Gathered on the floor of District 4, the victors were laughing and eating and talking and... just being together. In those moments, there was no power in the world that could influence them. They were just natural, genuine, loyal to each other.
Three years ago - while Mags was still alive - she organized these dinners and invited all the counties to join them. Although the evenings were getting pretty...quiet then. District 2 weren't the kind of people who wanted to be at the same table as the others.
Now it was just them - Districts 1, 4, 7 and 12. Sometimes they were joined by Districts 3 and 11, but this year they had to prepare their 12-year-old tributes to survive as far as possible.
Aphrodite, Esme, and Azalea sat at one end of the table, so close to each other they had no idea if they would ever be able to separate - holding hands with the other two, not touching their food. Across the table, Finnick was telling some silly story about a turtle that stole his hat. Katniss laughed as Peeta hugged her and Haymitch and Johanna drank like it was the last night on earth. Annie's eyes twinkled while Cashmere and Gloss joked with Kane from District 7.
Azalea looked around the table. This was home. Not District 12, not the Capitol. The people at that table - the people she'd grown up with, who loved her, who called themselves her family and would do anything for her. Even if she couldn't win... she was proud of the fact that she was a part of this family.
Finnick smiled at the three girls. "Well? Didn't I call you with some promise, Zea?" Azalea let go of her friends' hands.
"Not tonight," Esme called. "We're going to dance tonight."
Aphrodite raised her eyebrows, "We don't have music..."
"Finnick? Did he bring the violin?" Esme's eyes lit up as her mentor nodded. "Here, we have music." She pulled her two friends towards the middle of the living room as Finnick pulled out the instrument. "Ready?" Esme looked around at her friends.
When Finnick played the violin, the three girls held hands again and began to spin in a circle, dancing to his music. They laughed as they made faces as if they were dancing in the middle of the Meadow instead of the Capitol, getting ready for Azalea to enter the Hunger Games. In their hearts shone that purest emotion that made people do such stupid things. Now they were celebrating that emotion - that love they felt for each other.
After a minute, the others joined them. Without Johanna and Haymitch (they didn't like to dance).
Peeta took her daughter by the hand and danced with her as if they were practicing for a wedding that might never come. But he was smiling - confident that everything would be fine. So Zea smiled as she watched her family laugh around her. Gloss was dancing with his niece, Cashmere had taken Esme by the arm, which left Katniss with Annie.
They danced for a long time - as if the moon was singing especially for them. They laughed for a long time - as if the time was theirs. They were together for a long time - simply because they could.
When Finnick played a slower tune - probably a ballad - Katniss took Azalea's hands and slowly danced with her. Zea rested her head on her mother's shoulder and whispered, "I'm sorry for not telling you."
Katniss gently stroked her child's hair. "It's okay. It's not your fault, Zea. It's just...he took away your choice." She took a deep breath. "He took away my choice... I... I believed I could protect you, my sweet child. I believed that if you studied here, if you were one of them, he would let you find him. I didn't judge though. In his eyes , you will always be my punishment. Because I love you too much, Azalea. And if something happened to you... it would break me. It will tear me into a million pieces and this time... this time I might tear Panem as he knows it."
Azalea tightened her grip around her mother's waist. He tried to swallow the tears, to burn them away, but one just fell on Katniss's shoulder. "I love you too, mom."
"You know... when you were so small that your father carried you with one arm, I loved watching you sleep. You were... so calm, there was nothing evil in your mind. You, my dear baby girl, have saved me in more ways than you can imagine. I was lost when you appeared, I was a slave. Now... thanks to you, I'm free."
But not really. Azalea just smiled at her mother. One day... one day they would all be free for real.
***
When the adults decided to go out for a drink, Azalea, Aphrodite, and Esme remained in the District 4 living room. Annie had retired to her room early, giving Esme the opportunity to go to the window and light a cigarette.
"So. What do you know about tributes?" Azalea raised her eyebrows.
Aphrodite laughed and pulled a notebook out of her jacket pocket. "You don't think we came unprepared do you. I've been gathering information on the Careers for months." She rolled her light eyes slightly. "And you owe me a big favor because of those long talks I had with Orion."
"His tributes look good," Esme called from the window. "They might survive to the final eight, but our Zea will win."
She put out the cigarette. "Okay. What do we have from District 1, Aph?"
"Regina and Prince. Regina's main strategy is that she's going to make out with the hopeless beauty while she and the District 2 kids are left. Then she's going to cut their throats," Aphrodite rolled her eyes. "Which is an exact copy of my mother's strategy."
"The only difference," Azalea called, "is that your mother had experience with weapons. Does Regina have any?"
Aphrodite frowned. "Nope. Right. Be allied with her only because the boy from District 2 - who we'll talk about in a moment - was staring at her ass today."
Esme threw herself onto the opposite couch. "What about the boy? Aren't you being trained at this special academy of yours?"
"Prince thinks he has a chance. However, he is not very...talented. At the academy I was told this: 'Extremely arrogant, even though he has the lowest score.' So, my dear Azalea, only Regina will serve you well." Aphrodite turned to Esme. "What tributes has fate bestowed on you?"
Azalea took a deep breath. Why did all the mentors talk like the tributes were animals? These Games would be the last, Azalea hoped. Aeneas would soon take his grandfather's place. He would soon be president. And Aeneas would change things. She would probably have to stop calling him Neas at some point.
But he was unlikely to change. Because he was good at heart. He was not a hunter, he was not a performer. He was... one of those princes who were in the bedtime stories her father read to her. Aeneas was one of those guys who was just nice. He came to every one of her track and field events, to every recital. He was there to support her and then take her out for ice cream. Just like that.
"...Alicia and Connor, 16 and 17. Trained specifically by Finnick and before that by Mags. But they can't swim," Esme explained of her tributes. "Alicia has an idea for a serious plan to keep only the Careers in the final 8, along with someone incidental from the other Districts. Connor, however, is very little involved in scheming. He has experience with the trident."
Azalea thought for a second before saying, "Okay. Here's an idea. Someone from District 1 will take care of it. Then we'll meet. Then I'll create some drama in the group, they'll fight. End of story."
"In order for this plan to work, Alicia and Connor need to not be together," Esme sat back. "Shit, I'm sleepy."
"Aeneas said he would help," Aphrodite snorted.
"He told me what the arena was like. Months ago, but..." Azalea shook her head. "I think the arena is still like that." Azalea took a sheet of paper and quickly scribbled down what she remembered from Neas's notebook. She pointed to the dam. "This will be the only source of water."
"Drinking water or just water in general?" Esme asked. "The gamemakers won't let it be just the dam. Everyone will gather there and it will be a bloodbath. Everything will be dead by the third day."
"They'll all be dead anyway," Aphrodite scowled against the leaf. "The only important thing is to remove the tributes from District 4."
"Excuse me?" Esme yelled and jumped off the couch. "Why...Hell no!"
"What?" Azalea asked.
Esme's face was almost as red as her hair. "This is going to get us into some trouble and you know it! And...how are we going to blow it up without the help of the gamemakers?!"
"Neas is a gamemaker. And... Zea can do it on her own. As long as she gets a good enough sponsor. Which - luckily - is my father."
Azalea jumped up from her seat and stood between her two friends. "Let me see if I understand," her voice dropped to a whisper. "You want someone to send me explosives so I can blow up the dam?"
Esme nodded. "It won't work. If anyone is by the dam wall—"
"No one will risk being up there. If there's a little river below the dam wall, that's where they'll go. There could be mutts coming out of the dam, remember?" Aphrodite looked at Azalea. "If you blow up the wall the moment both of Esme's tributes die, you win the Games. It's not like you kill them all. They are drowning."
"Zea, it's going to haunt you anyway," Esme insisted. "Please, let's come up with something else... And about that... for that explosive, the sponsors will ask too much later. Think about that, too."
"The thing she should be thinking about is how to get out of the arena alive!" Aphrodite took a few steps towards Azalea and took her hands in hers. Her palms were icy, which only made Azalea realize what a despicable plan they were commenting on. "You just have to trust me. And you'll go home."
To drown all the tributes. This was no show. This was not something President Snow would ask of her. He was going to punish her. Because what was happening... it was already a riot. And if she got involved in any way...hell, how could she punish her family any more?
Maybe her uncle was right, maybe she should join this rebellion and try to make things right for Panem. Because... she couldn't let her parents' mistakes get to her. And in order to join the rebellion, she had to survive. And this - Aphrodite's plan - was the surest way for that survival.
"Find sponsors, I'll take care of the rest."